Leave Kriti and come here to this holy
temple with your graceful grove
of apple trees and altars smoking
with frankincense.
Icy water babbles through apple branches
and roses leave shadow on the ground
and bright shaking leaves pour down
profound sleep.
Here is a meadow where horses graze
amid wild blossoms of the spring and soft
winds blow aroma
of honey. Afroditi, take the nectar
and delicately pour it into gold
wine cups and mingle joy with
our celebration.
